


Small Pleasures

by banshee_in_the_dark



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Leadership, Romance, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-05
Updated: 2014-06-05
Packaged: 2018-02-03 13:26:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1746305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/banshee_in_the_dark/pseuds/banshee_in_the_dark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life on the ground is harsh, but it's the small pleasures that make it worth the while.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Small Pleasures

“Morning Princess – _shit._ Sorry.”

Clarke rolls her eyes, pulling her shirt over her head. The dark fabric is rough and scratchy from a century of sitting unused in a bunker, but it’s clean. Down here, with the rain and mud and the blood and sweat, a somewhat clean shirt is a luxury and she revels on it unapologetically.

She turns around to the flap of her tent, sees Bellamy’s shadow dance on the material, standing by with his back turned, head moving precisely from one side to the other, perpetually checking over the camp, making sure everything is okay and in its place.

“You can come in now,” she calls out, sitting on her bed and lacing up her boots.

He doesn’t apologize again. He doesn’t really have to in her opinion. They live in a camp with another eighty people and the only barriers to protect their intimacy are makeshift tents made of parachute fabric. Accidents are bound to happen. Becoming upset every time someone happens to walk in on her changing or hurriedly washing is a waste of energy she can’t afford.

Besides, it’s not like he saw anything. She already had her pants, bra and threadbare undershirt on.

Bellamy enters her tent, ducking slightly. The humidity is doing a number on his hair, doubling it in volume and curling it up in all directions. Minuscule drops of water dust all over his mane, some even collected on his nose and cheekbones and the shoulders of his shirt are covered in dark damp splotches. He’s got his trusty rifle slung over his shoulder, balancing something underneath a clean cloth on his hand as he makes his way fully into the tent.

“It’s started raining again,” he comments grimly.

“It’s been like this for three days,” Clarke sighs, rubs her tired eyes before resuming lacing up her boot. “We have to come up with a way to keep everyone dry or we’re all gonna come down sick.”

“How’s Miller?” Bellamy asks, a worried frown darkening his features. He plops down on a nearby crate, shrugging off the rifle and depositing it carefully beside him.

“He’s not out of the woods yet, but he was breathing easier when I left him a few hours ago,” Clarke rolls her sore shoulders back in a an effort to easy some of the tension and stiffness, completely missing the way Bellamy’s sight drops to her chest and the appreciative quirk of his brow, before putting on her jacket. The cold was biting even inside the tent, protected from the rain and wind outside. “He screamed bloody murder when I held his head over the eucalyptus oil vapor, the big baby, but he’s coughing out the mucus and his fever is manageable.”

“That’s disgusting,” Bellamy says giving her a level look. He could do without the knowledge of his second in command’s bodily fluids.

“You’re telling me. I held a bucket for him.”

They both shudder, Clarke at the assault of less than pleasant memories from the night before; Bellamy at the image formed in his brain.

“And the others?” Bellamy looks almost afraid to ask, and for a moment Clarke entertains the idea of regaling him with some of the jewels of their improvised medbay just to see him cringe.

“It’s just the flu. They’ll be fine,” she settles for the simple truth. She doesn’t know where the urge to tease Bellamy came from, but it’s better to nip it right in the bud. This co-leadership they have going on here works. She doesn’t want any unnecessary complication messing that up.

“Good,” he nods. It’s small, concealed, but Clarke detects the sigh of relief at her news. Bellamy might act like a dictatorial asshat half the time, but he genuinely cares about their people. “Well, as for me,” he stands up, the top of his head making contact with the roof of the tent. He fingers the cloth covering whatever it is in his hand, mirth dancing in his dark eyes. “I brought you a surprise.”

He uncovers the mysterious object, revealing a can with steaming liquid, the glorious minty smell wrapping around her in as a blanket.

The scavenging parties they send out regularly have become more and more skilled at identifying herbs, meaning Clarke is always stocked up medicinal herbs and plants. But even better than that, some of the plants, like mint and chamomile, they could boil the leaves and make tea daily. With the weather turning worse and the hundred being perpetually cold, a hot beverage to fill their stomachs with at the start of the day and before going to bed was a big help in keeping everyone alive.

Not to mention the brews were spicy and delicious, and Clarke had noticed that the general mood had improved from dark and gloomy to hesitantly optimistic and relaxed as the chamomile consumption increased.

She takes the proffered can, feeling the warmth of the metal thaw her stiff fingers. The hot liquid makes her taste buds explode with sensation as she takes a sip, and warmth begins to spread through her from within when she swallows. Clarke sighs contentedly, subconsciously licking her lips. She lives for the small pleasures life on earth has to offer.

She frowns when she sees what else he has on his hand. “Bellamy, is that what I think it is?”

He nods, a splitting grin so bright plastered on his face, making him look so boyish and charming her heart does an involuntary jump. The last time she saw him smile like that he was holding an assault rifle and grinning like it was his birthday. The pungent smell of lubricant had filled the confines of the wasted depot and Clarke had felt a little lightheaded. In hindsight, maybe it wasn’t the smell what made her catch her breath and turned her knees to jelly.

“Bread,” he proclaims triumphaly. He takes her hand, carefully splays her fingers one by one, and deposits the still warm morsel on her open palm.

Her dumbfounded expression must be hilarious because Bellamy outright chuckles as his dark eyes take in every detail of her face. “Remember that scavenging party that was supposed to return two nights ago?”

“They made it?” the relief she feels is evident, laced in every syllable and in the relaxing of her shoulders. That’s three more people they thought they’d lost.

“In one piece,” he says softly. “And even better, they found a wheat field and a fully operational watermill three days west from here. They sneaked in, filled a sack with flour and two more with seeds and got the hell out before anyone saw them. They didn’t even fire a single shot,” he boasts, chest puffing up proudly.

Clarke frowns worriedly, weighting the bread in her hand. “If the grounders find out we stole from them we could have serious problems.”

“Relax. For what they told me they had stored twenty times more than what they took. Chances are they won’t even notice. Now, it’s not enough to last us through winter, but if we ration it we can get a few meals, and Monty says the soil is perfectly fertile and we can plant the seeds after the last frost if we get enough space cleared out.”

Clarke bites her lip. His excitement is contagious and her body starts to hum. This is good news.

“Taste it,” Bellamy nods to the piece of bread still in her outstretched hand, his voice reduced to a low grasp that simultaneously irritates her and makes her belly do somersaults.

She snorts a little laugh and takes a dainty bite. Her eyelids flutter closed, a moan escaping her as she chews slowly, enjoying the taste more than what might be deemed appropriate. Their diet has consisted of little else than meat, berries and nuts since they landed, the chewy softness of the bread is a welcome change.

She opens her eyes after she swallows and finds Bellamy staring at her, eyes so dark they might be black, but warm and velvety. His lips are parted and they’re so close she feels his quiet breathing caress her cheeks. Her heart starts beating a rapid tattoo against her ribcage.

“Good?” And again her belly flutters. It’s unfair that she should be this affected _by his voice_.

“Very.”

Bellamy’s eyes drop to her mouth and Clarke feels the cold fingers of panic tickle her spine. This is wrong. What are they doing? They can’t have a _moment_. If they’re going to keep everyone alive, if they’re going to lead them, their relationship needs to be strictly business. Friendship, yes, but romance? That’s an unnecessary complication she’d like to steer very clear off, thank you very much.

So she turns her head and takes a huge bite of the bread, following it with a swig of tea when she nearly chokes, pointedly looking away and pretending like nothing happened. Bellamy fidgets subtly, clears his throat and moves back to pick up his rifle.

“Anyway, if we make it through the winter, and I have some ideas about that we need to discuss, we might just have a shot living in this place,” he slings his gun over his shoulder, his voice back to his usual steady, confident tone. Part of her misses his nearness, but mostly she’s glad they’re back to familiar territory.

He gives her a reassuring smile, one that rarely makes an appearance and very few people ever get to see, and Clarke knows similar thoughts to hers are running through his mind.

Bushing the crumbs off her hand and downing the last bit of her tea, Clarke exits the tent brushing past Bellamy holding the flap open for her, shoots him a grateful smile, and they make their way side by side slowly through the busy camp, talking about what they need to stock up on for the coming winter and what they’re going to do for shelter, as the persistent drizzle falls around them.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first time writing for this fandom, so hopefully I didn't mess it up completely? Please leave a comment and tell what you think XD


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